


Holiday Parties

by goldensnitch18



Series: Scared, Potter? [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Christmas Party, M/M, Male Slash, New Year's Eve, Oral Sex, Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-17 20:32:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13084815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldensnitch18/pseuds/goldensnitch18
Summary: Draco and Harry both hate holiday parties, but this year, they might just be worth the trouble.





	Holiday Parties

It wasn't even Christmas yet, and Draco was fucking sick of it already. It felt like there was some new shit for them to do every night, and if he didn't want to go he was some sort of societal outcast set on tearing apart their ‘fragile’ friendships. Draco was pretty sure they had left fragile behind a fairly long time ago considering Blaise was married to Ginny Weasley and Pansy was secretly fucking Professor Dullbottom. Draco didn't really see whatever it was Pansy saw in him, but whatever. At least she was getting some cock, unlike him. Draught would be a kind word to describe the condition Draco had been in for … long enough. 

His stupid brain had decided to shack up with that pulsing pit of longing and something he didn't want to put a name on and fucked him over. Draco hadn't been able to go through with any of his normal shitty dates after he had put the pieces together and admitted that he wanted Harry Potter. Not only wanted him in a bend him over and fuck him manner, but also in a want to hold his hand and whisper stupid shit in his ear sort of way. It was horrible. In his whole forsaken life Draco had never been so tortured by another human being, and that was saying something considering he had basically lived with The Dark Lord. 

The trouble with Potter, outside of the fact that he was  
, was that Draco had no clue if he liked men, or really anyone. He'd dated Ginny years ago, but it barely lasted a couple months. Then not much of anything for years. At the beginning of this year, there had been a rumor and a thing in The Prophet claiming he was seeing Oliver Wood. However, nothing really came of it. Both men ignored the story, which was normal for them both, and nothing else emerged about a relationship. 

“He needs someone,” a voice said next to him. Draco glanced over to see Granger holding a glass of wine. Apparently she had noticed him doing a terrible job of not staring at Potter while he talked to her husband. 

“If you're that worried, find him someone,” Draco told her, as if he wouldn’t hate seeing someone else at Potter’s side at these things.

“I tried.” Hermione sighed as she spoke, shaking her curls. “It ended badly.” 

“And, he kept it out of The Prophet?” Draco asked, his eyebrow raising. That was an impressive feat for the boy who lived to be stalked by reporters. 

“Oh, well, no.” Hermione kept her face straight, her eyes on Potter as he talked to Weasley, but Draco was sure there was something devilish dancing behind those brown orbs. 

“Are you trying to tell me something?” Draco asked, considering the article about Wood again. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, her smirk refuting her words. 

Gay. Harry-fucking-savior-of-the-world-Potter was gay? No. Draco look back at the two men his companion was watching and licked his lips. He had wondered, wanted, and wished, but in all honesty, Draco had never actually thought that it would be true, that he might one day actually have a shot. “You’re kind of a terrible friend,” he informed her.

“I didn’t say anything at all.” Granger shrugged. 

“You may as well have.” He lifted his glass to his lips and pulled at the liquid, praying to the God of Firewhisky for liquid courage. 

“I’m sure he’ll thank me later,” she countered. 

“You’re so sure I’m interested?” Draco asked, dropping all pretenses. 

Hermione looked directly at him, her eyes too keen for Draco’s liking. “I would guess you have been for about five years now.” 

“I hated him five years ago,” he said flatly, something inside of him clenching at the half truth. 

“And?” She shook her head again. “He deserves something good. Don’t be an asshole. I know it’s hard for the two of you to control yourselves.”

“Does Weasley know about this side of you?” Draco asked. 

“Quite well, actually.” She smirked in a way that made Draco’s mind dart to places he would rather never go, and he cringed. 

“I shouldn’t have asked.” 

XXX

Potter didn’t leave the main area of the party for nearly two hours after Granger’s revelation. Draco knew this because he kept his eyes trailed on the other man every moment that he could, refusing to allow his mop of black hair out of his peripheral vision. There was a moment where he thought Potter might be about to get up to go do something, but just as he began to rise, fucking Longbottom had shifted over to start a conversation about something no doubt as mundane and bland as his tweed. As he watched Potter, he was explicitly aware of Granger’s eyes on him, watching his every move as she sipped at her wine. She was driving him even more mad than he was driving himself. 

Finally, Potter stood, brushing at his jeans as if something would have gotten on them as he talked to what felt like every single one of their friends, and headed toward the kitchen with his cup in hand. Draco immediately said, “Excuse me,” to Blaise and Ginny and followed shortly behind him. Potter was at the island pouring Firewhisky when Draco slipped through the door and let it swing closed behind him. Hermione’s kitchen was empty apart from the two of them, but he moved to stand right beside Potter anyway, placing his own glass down as if he might be waiting for a refill. 

“Hey, Malfoy.” Potter said, turning to glance at the glass. 

“Hey, Potter.” Draco told him, his heart starting to pound. He was beginning to feel extremely disjointed about this whole thing. What if Hermione was wrong? What if it had just been a rumor?

Harry began to poor the amber liquid into Draco’s glass. 

What if Potter wasn’t interested in him? What if … 

Draco’s hand leapt forward and moved over Harry’s on the bottle. The other man’s hand jumped, but Draco held it steady and nothing spilled. “What …” Harry began, but Draco leaned in and kissed him hard on the mouth. As he did, he guided the bottle back down to the counter, and turned to face Potter. Harry wasn’t pushing him away, though Draco didn’t know whether this was out of shock or desire. Draco’s fingers moved deftly, finding their place at the hem of his jumper and lifting to feel his skin as he pushed his body against Harry’s. 

Just as he was about to pull away and go find a hole to crawl into, Potter started to kiss him back, his tongue slipping between Draco’s lips. Draco pulled him backwards, towards the pantry, and Harry, surely because of the intervention of some Christmas miracle, let him. Draco fumbled with the door to the pantry for far too long, and Harry reached around him to open it deftly and shove Draco inside. Draco pushed the jumper up further, causing Harry to pull back to allow him to remove it just before shutting the door behind them.

“Why are you doing this?” Harry asked, already breathing heavily. 

“I heard you might be into it,” Draco responded, shoving hips against hips as his hands went mad pulling Potter back to his lips by his neck and roaming the newly revealed skin. 

“Oliver?” Harry asked in a breath. 

“Really? Now?” Draco asked, deadpan.

“Yes,” Harry began, but Draco bit his neck, he muttered, “Oh, fuck …” 

“No, and you shouldn’t bring up other men you’ve fucked.” Draco told him between kissing and licking the red mark from his bite. 

“Damn it, Draco.” Harry pushed him back, his breath labored and desperate. Draco gave him a foot of distance. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

“Trying to suck you off, or fuck you if you prefer.” Draco told him. He was hard as hell, and he could tell that Harry was, too. 

“What? Out of nowhere? In Ron and Hermione’s’ pantry?” Harry asked.

“I can take you home if you prefer. I’ll cook something so we can pretend it’s a date.” 

“You’re such a dick,” Harry told him, but he could see Harry pull his lip in with his teeth, see his body tense and fighting against pulling Draco back in, so he wasn’t really too concerned about it. 

“And, you clearly need some dick,” he said as he moved forward again. 

Harry’s hand landed on his chest, holding him slightly at bay. “So, we fuck once in the closet and pretend it never happened?” 

 

It was dim in the pantry, thankfully. The only light slipped through the cracks in the door and Draco prayed that Harry didn’t see the momentary drop in his demeanor. He didn’t want that, but … “That’s what you want, right?” 

“Yeah. If you do.” Harry said, his fingers clutching at Draco’s shirt, pulling him in. 

“Sure.” Draco wanted to tell him that he would fuck him any way, any time, any chance he got, but he didn’t want to scare him away with too much. Clearly this wasn’t the same thing for the other man as it was for Draco. He thought back to Hermione’s warning about not hurting him by being an arse and wondered if she should have given it the other way around. It didn’t matter. Fuck tomorrow, fuck the consequences. He grabbed his wand, put up a silencing charm, and replaced it. He wanted Harry Potter with every cell in his body and tonight he was going to have him. 

He dropped to his knees, ignoring the discomfort of the hard floor beneath them as he quickly opened Harry’s jeans. Harry reached down to pull out his cock, and Draco pushed his hand away to do it instead. He stroked Harry’s length with slow, determined movements as Harry fell back against the door. “Oh, Fuck,” he said again. Draco leaned forward to breath hot air onto Harry’s cock as he stroked, reveling in the shifts of Harry’s hips as he tried not to react. Finally, when Harry thrust forward, needing more and unable to control his body, Draco took him in his mouth, one quick replacement of hand for lips and tongue, and Harry clutched his hair sharply. Draco swirled his tongue in time with his thrusts, feeling increased tension in his own pants as Harry reacted openly. 

Draco’s hands ran up Potter’s thighs where his skin had been exposed by his fallen jeans. When he reached Harry’s Arse, he clenched his skin, digging his fingertips in. Harry thrust against his mouth and hissed out a long breath of satisfaction. Draco moaned around his cock, and pulled at Harry’s hips until he was setting a steady rhythm. Draco focused on his tongue, performing a dance around the base with each thrust, and tasting the tip with quick darts before Harry plunged back in. 

Everything about Harry was so fucking intoxicating. His breath, his small murmured words, the shifts of his hips, the control he maintained in his thrusts, everything. Draco grew eager, bobbing his head more quickly, reaching beneath cock with one hand to palm Harry’s balls. Harry let out another curse, his hold on Draco’s hair tightening. “Fucking … God …” Draco knew he was close, knew it was so fucking close he could taste the precum on his tongue. He pressed gently right in front of Harry’s arse, rubbing the spot with careful pressure, and Harry let out a strangle sound of pleasure as he came. 

Draco pulled back, letting Harry rest against the door, but it was a short lived break. Hands gripped his shirt and pulled him up, kissing him hard as soon as he was back on his feet. “Fuck me,” Harry told him, and Draco groaned into his mouth. It was embarrassing as shit, but given the request he had just made, he was pretty sure Potter wasn’t going to care. 

Draco stripped quickly, moving around Harry’s hands and teeth as the other man tried to touch as much of his skin as possible as he undressed. He was careful to remember to remove his wand from his jeans before Harry shoved them down with his pants. And, then Harry had turned, his forearms against the wall, and Draco was inside of him and 

 

Harry was whispering his name to the wall, but he heard it anyway, and he knew in that place that held the something he wasn’t going to put a name on that if he never got to do this again it would surely kill him. He belonged here. It was as if every moment of his shitty miserable life, every argument, every curse, every confession about their childhoods when they were too drunk to filter had led them here, and it was the first time he didn’t completely regret every decision he ever made at Hogwarts. 

“Harry,” he murmured back, kissing his shoulder, his neck, his back. It was all too intimate. Every layer of what was happening was too much, too revealing, but it didn’t matter. He knew he should do something different, make it more about the sex somehow and not about how he was finally inside of Harry, part of him, and they were wrapped in this perfect cocoon that seemed to feel like that unspoken part of him had grown to envelop them. 

Harry reached a hand above his head and Draco grasped it almost instantly, wrapping their fingers together against the wall as he teetered on the edge of oblivion, and the met it head on, crashing into it with a ferocity that had him biting Harry’s shoulder to stop himself from screaming loud enough that the charm may not hold it in. 

They stood there against the wall for a long minute, still until Draco finally pulled out, knowing that he was savoring these final moments for too long. He avoided Harry’s eyes, reaching down to grab his wand from his jeans and clean himself up. Harry mimicked his moments, pulling on his clothes as the silence grew loud around them. When he was dressed and as put back together as he was going to be, Draco turned to face Harry. He was slightly to the side, pulling his shirt down over his head. 

“So,” Harry said, grinning. 

“So, this was fun. Thanks,” Draco told him, wanting nothing more now than to be as far away from Harry as possible before he could ask questions or say something stupid. 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. 

“I’ll see you later then,” Draco said, and he reached to open the pantry door without thinking about whether someone might be on the other side. Luckily there wasn’t. He pulled the door shut behind him, leaving Harry behind him, and walked quickly back through the kitchen and the party towards the door. As he pulled on his jacket in the doorway, Hermione approached looking smug. 

“Draco, you better be replacing everything in that pantry tomorrow.” 

“Shut up, Mom,” he growled. 

“Draco,” she said again, more concern than bite in her tone now. 

“I’ll send over an Elf in the morning,” he spat, and slammed the door behind him. 

XXX

Harry didn't want to go to the party. He wanted a quiet night in with a shower and a nightcap before losing himself in his sheets. He would start to stroke himself, all the while lying about who he was going to think about, and then he would come hard to the memory of Draco fucking him in his best friend’s kitchen pantry. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in the two weeks since that night, but Hermione insisted that if she had to go to Ginny and Blaise’s for New Years, he had to go as well. Harry wasn’t sure how exactly this worked since Hermione would have Ron, but she was Hermione. He knew she would ultimately get her way, so he may as well let it go. 

He knew Draco would most likely be there. Blaise was one of his best friends. He would certainly be invited, but the question remained about how was he feeling in the aftermath of the pantry incident. Harry still had no real idea of what had possessed Draco to start that in the damn kitchen of all places. A normal person would have suggested going to their flat towards the end of the evening, but not Draco. Draco didn’t work that way. He was cocky and arrogant, impatient and dead set on getting what he wanted. Plus, he was fucking amazing with his goddamn tongue, and fingers, and cock. Shit. 

Harry ran his hand through his hair and apparated, trying to focus on the three d’s when really his mind was dead set on that fucking idiot. 

“Harry!” Ginny shouted and ran for him. She kissed his cheek and took the bottle of champagne from his hand. “Why didn’t you bring someone?” she asked more quietly. 

“No one to bring, Gin,” he shrugged. 

“You know, they’re going to find out eventually. You shouldn’t waste your life this way,” she lectured, sounding almost exactly like her mother nagging him to bring someone to Christmas. 

 

“I’m not wasting my life, I just don’t have anyone to bring to the party,” Harry insisted. 

“When was the last time you got laid? If you say Oliver, I’m going to go hire you a -” 

“Give it a rest, babe,” Blaise interrupted, putting his hand on his wife’s lower back.

“Thanks,” Harry told him. 

“I’m just saying, he needs to get laid,” Ginny whispered, sounding very much unlike her mother. 

“Run,” Blaise told him, motioning behind him with his head as he pushed Ginny away from Harry. 

Harry tried to laugh as he moved down the hall, but he wasn’t feeling much like it. His sexuality was a relatively unknown fact about him. It wasn’t really that he didn’t want people to know about it so much as he didn’t want to deal with people knowing about it for no reason. With Oliver, he thought there might be a reason, but things had ended just as he was beginning to wonder if it was time to let the world in. After that, he had gone back to not having a reason to talk about it. Everyone who knew about it was extremely tight lipped for his sake, which he appreciated, but it was also exasperating to have them all treating him like a lonely puppy all the time. He may be lonely, but it wasn’t a disorder that he needed them to cure. 

Over the next hour, Harry mingled, saying hello to his friends and people that Blaise and Ginny called friends until he was somehow left alone for a few minutes to stand at the side of the room and sip at his drink as he watched everyone else. He didn’t mind being alone, he relished in it honestly, except this particular time when he noticed Hermione had walked over to Draco and seemed to be asking him questions. Harry wanted to believe that they were innocent questions, but when Draco’s silver gray eyes met his, intense and filled with something Harry didn’t want to think about, he was fairly positive they were not. 

Draco broke off from talking to Hermione, leaving her looking exasperated behind him as he crossed the room. Harry lifted his glass again, drinking deeply, not wanting to know what the other man was planning at the moment. Draco was wearing his stupid expensive jeans a button down top that probably was made from some rare wizarding silk or something. He looked damn good, so damn good, and Harry hated how badly he wanted him. He’d made it clear that they were a one time thing and he didn’t want anything more than that. Harry wasn’t interested in being played with. He wasn’t a toy or a conquest to be had. Fuck that. 

 

“Hey, Potter,” Draco told him, reverting back from the first names they had been using when he had taken Harry’s cock in his mouth and then been buried inside of him. 

“Malfoy. What are you and Hermione talking about?” he asked, cutting right to the point. 

Draco leaned towards the shelf behind Harry, admiring one of Ginny's trophies as if he cared. Harry could smell his cologne as he whispered, “I'd fuck you right here, right now.” 

Harry grimaced, lifting the glass to his mouth. He had been right. Malfoy was looking for another quick shag, and Harry needed far more alcohol to deal with this bullshit. “No.”

“I can get us into Blaise’s office,” Draco offered, and Harry would swear that something grazed against his ass at the words, but he wasn’t about to look down to check and risk drawing someone else’s eyes to the inappropriate touching. 

“The definition of a one off is that it only happens once, Malfoy,” Harry said. 

“And?” Draco asked. His breath was hot on Harry’s lips as he looked up, continuing to fake read the trophies. 

“And, no.” 

“Come on, Potter. Everyone deserves to be fucked at New Years.” 

“I'm sure there are plenty of other arses you could bury your cock in.” From across the room, Hermione caught his eye and shot him a glance he didn’t want to begin to interpret. Why did he get stuck with so many damn meddling friend? Why couldn’t they all be like Ron and not give two shits if he was getting any or not?

“Sure,” Draco told him, doing quite well at acting like they were just having a normal conversation. “But, it's not the same.” 

“Why?” Harry asked without thinking, knowing he shouldn't be doing this, going here. Draco had been clear that he wanted a one time thing, and Harry shouldn't have even done that. He'd been so shocked that the man he'd been wanting to for months was shoving him against a door that he just went with it, letting himself indulge for once. 

“You want to talk about this here?” Draco asked. 

“Why couldn't we?” 

“Potter,” 

Harry cut him off. “It's Harry. People that fuck me generally use my name.” 

“Harry,” Draco said, and Harry felt his cock twitch as if coming to life. Fucking perfect. He should have kept his mouth shut. 

“What?” he asked. 

“Tell me. Do you want to do it again?” Harry felt that barely there touch again and wanted to grip Draco’s neck to keep him from going anywhere until he had thoroughly tasted every corner of his mouth. 

“Yes.” His voice was breathy and out of control. 

“Then who cares,” Draco insisted. 

“I care. I don't make a habit of sleeping around,” Harry told him. 

“We could do breakfast too,” Draco suggested. 

“What does that change?” Harry asked, perplexed by the statement. 

“We could come to these horrible things together.” 

“What?” Harry’s head whipped around, turning towards Draco which put their faces dangerously close, too close honestly, but he was too surprised to care. 

“You heard me,” Draco told him quietly. 

“You would … I mean …”

“You were the one that said it was a one time thing,” Draco told him. 

“I was asking a question,” Harry retorted. 

“And what was I supposed to say?” Draco asked, his voice rising slightly. 

“How about ‘No, actually. I'd like to grab dinner sometime,’” Harry said harshly. 

“Because we're clearly both great at talking things through.” 

“You're a fucking wanker.” 

And then Harry’s head hit the damn shelf with the trophy on it because Draco had kissed him. It wasn’t even that hard, Harry just hadn't been expecting it, so he lurched backwards slightly and smacked his head. 

“Are you okay?” Draco asked a moment later, and Harry ignored him, grabbing his neck with one hand as he kissed him again, beginning the exploration he had been wanting since the idiot had started walking over here. 

He knew that all of their friends were there. He knew that several of them were no doubt openly staring as they kissed, but Harry didn't give a fuck. He’d been waiting for his reason, knowing that it wouldn't ever be Draco, and here they were talking about having breakfast and attending shitty holiday parties together. Let the whole fucking world know if they wanted, he was going to shag Draco Malfoy as many times as possible tonight and make him eggs in the bloody morning.


End file.
